


A Very-Kinda-Maybe Homoerotic Fight [An Analysis]

by Evil_Squirrel



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Fictional Essay Excerpts, Fights, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Phallic Symbolism Mention, i've got one (1) joke and that's pointing at things and yelling "phallic symbolism", you can't take that away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Squirrel/pseuds/Evil_Squirrel
Summary: Anmon and Anprim get into a dispute. How do they solve that?[Excerpts from an essay written by a student of the Georgio Yakatura University for the Post-Truth Post-Gender course.]
Relationships: Anmon/Anprim
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	A Very-Kinda-Maybe Homoerotic Fight [An Analysis]

“So you are saying that you don't just date this polycule, but also your fellow tribe members?” Anmon asked.

“Yes!” Anprim declared with a sense of pride in his voice.

“That’s disgusting!”

“Not as much as your sister!” The rest of the anarchists in the room stared at their fellow comrades, dropping everything they did until now, be it figuratively or literally.

“How dare you insult my sister-wife? I challenge you to a duel!” Anmon pointed his sword at Anprim who barely raised his eyebrows at this proposal.

“Guys, that’s just so unnecessary,” Anpac said, rising up. “We’re in no need of infighting. Just apologize to each other and move on.”

“I bet they’re going to make out in ten minutes or less,” Queer Anarchism said, not even bothering to lower his voice so the two wouldn’t hear him.

[This story takes a place in a room which symbolizes their separation from the world. The sword Anmon owns is a phallic symbol and him raising it and pointing with it at Anprim is a symbol of erection.]

“If you want fight then throw away your metal stick and fight me like man!” Anprim growled, shooting a quick look at his dinosaur bone that was laid on the floor under the autosexual flag, but not going for it. Anmon put his sword away, mumbling some insults while he leaned it against the wall under the bear pride flag.

“Can I join?” Insurrectionary Anarchism jumped between them before he even finished his question. “I love smashing!”

“No. That’s between us,” Anprim said. Insurrectionary Anarchism rolled his eyes and went into the corner between the pansexual and transsexual flag.

“Seriously guys, you should stop this nonsense before somebody gets hurt,” Anpac said as he made a step forward. “We’re all civilized here.”

“Civilized? I will fight you too!” Anprim waved his fists in the air.

“Just focus on Anmon for now and stop threatening Anpac.” Queer Anarchism crossed his arms on his chest.

[The bear flag symbolizes Anprim, both as a masculine man and as somebody connected to nature. The transsexual flag is there for Transhumanist (character that might not be directly in this story but is a part of the Centricide lore) and his desire to get a robot dick which itself is a phallic symbolism showing his desire to be the superior penetrator. Autosexual then represents Anmon and his pride in himself that was hurt now. Anprim hurt his pride and masculinity not just by insulting his sister-wife (who herself is either a symbolism of his love for himself or a symbol of the maternal love he didn’t receive in his childhood), but also by bragging about the amount of his partners, showing he’s the alpha male there. Thus, Anmon must regain his masculinity here, a part of which was also denied when Anprim told him to get rid of his phallic symbolism.]

Anprim and Anmon started walking in circles, staring directly at each other. Nobody else made a noise. They circled each other more times than what Anprim could count to, yet none of them made the first step. Anprim was crouching and gritting his sharp teeth. Anmon walked while maintaining his regal posture.

“Are you two going to do something or not?” Insurrectionary Anarchism said. 

“Do not disturb my concentration, peasant,” Anmon said.

“I’m going to destroy something, this is boring,” Insurrectionary Anarchism said and left. Not that it mattered much, though. The only world they lived in was the cycle they walked in.

“If you are not brave enough to attack me just admit it and I will accept your apology.” Anmon stopped walking.

“You think you provoke me?” Anprim laughed. He too stopped walking now. “Why don’t you attack me first?”

Anmon just shook his head at this proposal and started walking in the cycle again. After he made a step, he noticed that Anprim still stood at his place as if he was awaiting him. Anmon’s steps slowed down and comically shortened. In a moment, these two would inevitably meet. Suddenly, it happened.

[Insurrectionary Anarchism is another character desiring penetration which we could conclude alone from the “I love smashing!” line. Him leaving the place symbolizes trying to find a new partner. Both, Anprim and Anmon represent the archetypes made by a psychologist, gender studies expert, biologist, volcanologist and nuclear physicist DOCTOR PROFFESSOR Jordan B. Peterson. Anmon is the straight-standing lobster bucko who cleaned his room, while Anprim is the embodiment of the Chaos Yang.]

Anmon quickly dodged the first fist, but he got hit by the second one. Cupping his cheek, he made a jump back before Anprim could reach out to him and he attacked him by kicking him to the knee. Anprim silently hissed.

“Wait, are you okay?” Now it was Anmon who was reaching out to Anprim, but in a moment he got hit again.

“Homofash would enjoy watching this if they were oiled,” Queer Anarchism thought out loud. “It doesn’t matter though as I wouldn’t let him in. He’s a fascist. Also, he’s white.”

Anmon somehow gained an advantage so he continued attacking – mostly pushing – Anprim while walking in circles around him. After another successful push, he tripped over Anprim’s foot and fell to the ground. Anprim quickly took advantage of it and sat on Anmon, pinning him down.

“Give up and I’ll release you,” he said [The verb ‘said’ implies the character was talking.], pushing Anmon even more into the ground if it was possible.

“Then stop saying my sister is disgusting!”

“Then stop saying me also dating my tribe members is disgusting!” Anprim yelled into his ear.

“Wait, I didn’t mean that… I’m sorry if you think that.”

Anprim’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did you mean then?”

“It… it was a joke.” Anmon looked away.

“Not funny one.”

“That’s why I wouldn’t make a fine court jester, unlike you.” Anmon smiled a bit awkwardly.

“See? You could solve this without fighting!” Both of them rolled their eyes at Anpac’s words. Just because he was right didn’t mean he had any rights to say it.

“Promise you joke no more,” Anprim said. “Promise you joke no more and I forgive you.”

“I promise I will never ever joke again,” Anmon said and aggressively nodded.

Anprim stared at him for a while, his nails burying deeper into Anmon’s arms which nearly made him wince. “Really?”

“Of course! When I promise something I mean it!” Anmon was nodding even more aggressively now. He tried to move, but Anprim didn’t let him.

“Say that me have more partners is not disgusting.” Anprim started to let go of his grip. Anmon immediately used this opportunity to free his arms to hug Anprim.

“Of course it’s not disgusting. In fact, it is beautiful you’ve got so much love for so many people. You’re my favorite court jester and one of my best vassals, I wouldn’t say a bad word about you.”

“And I’m sorry I say your sister is disgusting. I do not mean that.”

“Really?” Anmon was surprised.

“Of course! She looks exactly like you, just in dress! She can’t be disgusting!”

“That’s so nice of you,” Anmon said and kissed Anprim on his forehead, tearing up.

“Why you kiss me?” Anprim asked.

“That’s my secret fighting technique.” Anmon grinned.

“Your fighting more joke than your actual jokes.” Anprim shook his head, but he was smiling. Then he returned the kiss. “Outfight this!”

“I told they would make out in ten minutes,” Queer Anarchism yawned.

“I mean, it’s not really making out, but you were sort of right.” Anpac grinned. “Is anyone injured?” Nobody answered.

[As I already mentioned before, this fight was about Anmon regaining his masculinity. However, he failed to do so and in the end, he seems satisfied in his submissive role. Through Anprim, he finally gains a lover who isn’t his relative and Freud would also say something about finally feeling the fatherly love he didn’t feel in his childhood (probably, I studied him only through memes). Look, I know it might seem I don’t have enough words, but can you say such a thing in a post-truth world? Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t here.]


End file.
